


Break me out of this shale case I'm in

by danslips



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Self Harm, Stiles-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danslips/pseuds/danslips
Summary: Derek finds Stiles drunk and realises something is wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story was really hard to write, I hope y'all like it as much as I do. It contains Stiles lightly self-harming, so if you know you could be triggered, don't read it. The last thing I want is for someone to feel bad reading what I wrote for fun. The story is set after the first episode of 3A. The lyrics are from "Human" by Daughter - beautiful song.  
> I apologize for my grammar mistakes, it's my second time writing in english (I'm Italian). Enjoy!

Stiles never thought this moment would come: he was listening to love songs. Sad love songs, to be exact. It was time to stop blaming the bad timing of the radio: the truth was, when those songs come on the radio, he lets the lyrics get inside his head and his heart, even hurting him sometimes. He finds himself singing songs about death, without even noticing; the catchy sad songs are the worst. Because Stiles is a positive guy, and he shouldn't like sad songs that much.  
He is in the car when he turns on the radio and he realizes he knows every word of Diet Mountain Dew; he's a bit worried - come on, it's Lana del Rey! - but he pretends not to care and keeps driving. 

 

"Dude" says Scott, "Listen to this one".  
Stiles loves the afternoon spent with Scott: they have their homework to do, entire chapters to study from different subjects but still, they do none of that. They stay in Scott's bed, listening to music while talking about... stuff. About everything, really. And hey, Stiles loves talking, but they are seventeen now and their peers are getting high at the park right now. He doesn't want his life to be like Skins or Shameless, let's be clear: he just thinks that sometimes he'd like to break this shale case he's in. His father is the Sheriff though, and Stiles would never dissapoint him like that. So he listens to the song Scott's really excited about, trying not to find sad meanings to the lyrics so that he could sleep nicely that night.  
Because Stiles is a positive guy, and he doesn't know what's wrong with himself lately. 

 

***

 

My mind's lost in bleak vision  
I tried to escape but keep sinking  
And despite everything, I’m still human

 

 

When he's alone, Stiles is not so sure he's Stiles anymore. He somehow needs to do something bad. One time, he was paralized and had to watch a guy get killed by his car; he had to lay down feeling useless while he couldn't help his father. Pretty much everything happened to him, hurting every time more both physically and emotionally: even if he had adventures that Harry fucking Potter could only dream of, he was still an american teenage boy who sleeps, eats and goes to school.  
Nobody special, really. That's why he doesn't know what he needs. He just knows that he's not a positive guy anymore.  
At least, he's not when he's drunk.  
It's a mystery how it happened: a few days earlier he's having dinner with his dad with the usual beer, and it's like something hits him. There's beer in the kitchen. It's always been there and I never realised it.  
It's like when you are young and you hear a dirty joke and you don't really get it but you still play along, and after some years you realise what it meant and the "oooh" moment comes, when you finally get it.  
So, on saturday night, after telling Scott that it was fine if he was busy with this Kira girl, he takes two beers. Then two more. Then he looses count, because he sees there's also rum.

 

 

When he wakes up, he has no idea what's going on.  
He realises almost instantly that he's on the cold wooden floor in his room, and not on his bed. Also, someone must have opened the window because he's fucking freezing. Stiles moves just enough to feel his stomach ache so bad that makes him get up fastly. Which makes him throw up on the floor.  
"Hey, hey..." He feels someone take him by the shoulders, trying not no make him throw up on himself. Stiles can't even say anything because he has a gag coming up again, but he's sure that persone behind him is Scott, so there's not much to say anyway.  
Scott waits for another retch - who knows it's coming. Then he takes him to the bathroom, with an arm around his waist.  
When Stiles starts throwing up again, kneel on the toilet, Scott can't do much but find a comfortable position near him and pat his back waiting for him to finish.  
"That's what best friends do" says Stiles, with hoarse voice. "They wait when the other one is puking." 

 

Some hours later they are at McDonald's ("I'm not hungry and I feel like shit" "But I am!" "Fuck you"), and Stiles is looking at everyone with hate because he can't eat but he wants those damn fries--  
"Stop staring at everybody" Scott whispers. "You look like a perv."  
Stiles sighs and bites the straw that stole from Scott. "So, you wanna tell me how it went last night with the girl?"  
The other one bites his burger, with a smile thinking about last night with Kira. "It was awesome."  
Stiles suddenly feels the need to throw his Coke at him not in a friendly way. "Yes," he says patiently "you said that six times already. What else?"  
"She's nice. Her parents were really cool and everything went smoothly." Scott adds.  
Stiles looks at him, wanting to understand better. "You like her?" he whispers.  
"She's okay" Then he takes the straw from Stiles' mouth. "You know, I needed this"  
"Hey, it's a wonderful world full of straws. And straws were made to be bitten by people's teeth."  
While Scott gets up to get a new one ("What? My saliva disgusts you? We are best friends!" "But you destroyed it!), he thinks absently about his bedroom. They cleaned his vomit on the floor and opened up every possible window. Yes, of course it wasn't a great idea considering all the dark forces/Darachs/Allison's grandads that happened in the last few years, but they were full of bad alternatives anyway.  
Scott returns with at least six straws ("You are such an exageration"). "Tell me," Scott says, smiling kindly "where did this need of getting drunk come from last night?"  
Stiles knows Scott isn't mad or being a jerk, but he can't help but blush. "I was bored." He actually didn't want to talk about it. To tell the whole truth, he didn't even remember much. He absently scracthes his waist form a weird itch.  
Scott smiles, understanding. "Let's go home" he says, getting up. "There's this band you need to hear..."

 

Stiles and Scott spend their sunday afternoon at Scott's house talking and listening to music. Stiles loves Scott for so many reasons, and now he needs to had on the list "I love him because he doesn't ask about last night". The fact that Scott doesn't bring up the topic makes Stiles feel really comfortable.  
In the middle of a Keaton Henson song that Stiles chose, Scott freezes. "Stiles" he says  
The other one looks at him, confused. Come on, it's a great piece, you can't talk over it..."Mh?"  
"Why do I smell blood so much? Since this morning, I- mh. It's a light scent, but it's there and I don't know where it's from."  
"Wait, what? Since when you can smell blood? You never told me that."  
"Can you focus for a moment? I just told you I smell blood in my own bedroom." Scott breathes heavily, trying to calm down a bit.  
"Scottie, hey, it's probably some animal. Don't worry about it." Stiles tries to comfort him. "Since when can you do it? Since you are an alfa?"  
Scott shakes his head. "Derek told me."  
Now Stiles is really confused. "You saw him? Why I'm always the last person to know things?"  
"No, I didn't, we texted for a while. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. It's not a big thing anyway-"  
Stiles tries to hold in a laugh. "You mean, Derek knows what a phone is?"  
Scott smiles, even if a big part of him still thinks about the blood. "He told that if you focus on yout breathing you can feel people's emotions and then even blood, tears and vomit." He explains. "In fact, you smell a lot. Anyway we talked about me being an alfa and having responsabilities and stuff."  
"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure that now that you smell people's vomit and jerking off, you will be able to do great things."  
They both laugh, and Stiles can't help but think about how Scott is important to him. He really loves him a lot. It fustrates Stile how he would do anything to make Scott happy. Meanwhile, Scott takes his phone to check new messages. "Wait, does Derek know something about the guys in black? And no, I don't mean Backstreet Boys."  
Scott sighs: he was expecting this question. "Derek says he has no idea who they are"  
Stiles makes a noise particularly similar to "fuck". When those guys in black attacked Isaac, everybody panicked because nobody knew how to stop them and Chris Argent didn't want to talk about it - even Allison was mad at him. So everybody started sleeping in the same house afraid of being alone at night, and so many discussions were held.  
("Why appear, leave a mark on Isaac and then leave?" asked Scott to a really sleepy group on a friday.  
"Maybe they were just trying to scare him?" tries Lydia. "Maybe they are innocent things". Isaac nods sarcastically. "They definitevly have an innocent face, yes"  
"They don't even have a face" whispers Stiles. Basically what they learned about them was that they were scary, made marks and didn't have a face. But considering past experiences, they were doing good so far.)  
Stiles yawns and strecthes his arms, making Scott look up from his really well kept white iPhone. "You look so tired. You should have stayed in bed, I'm sorry I made you go out."  
The other one can't help but smile at him. "Scottie, you worry way too much."

 

 

***

 

 

If Stiles could have chosen a superpower to have, it would be to being able to change clothes without actually undressing. He doesn't care he's not a werewolf - he refused the bite after all, right? He just wanted that simple wish, easy as it is: coming home after a long day and being able to go to bed and sleep peacefully without the sight of his own pale body in a pair of boxers. He doesn't like to get undressed in front of other people; it makes him uncomfortable. That's it. He's like the opposite of Miley freaking Cyrus, and he now accepts it.  
When he takes off his shirt, that night, something goes extremely wrong: his pale naked torso has multiples orizontal scratches, in line, on the right side. Simple and thin superficial cuts: the ones that paper make, that only burn a bit. Stiles lightly touches them, confused: they itch, but he tries not to scracth them too much. He does really know what to do. After two minutes spent by watching them on the mirror, his breathing start to increase rapidly. Because tha smell of blood Scott scented that morning, was definetively his.  
So know the solution is what, not to get drunk anymore? Because yeah, sometimes this kind of stuff happens. Sometimes you drink and you feel like crap, sometimes it's great and awesome. It just took it the wrong way and bam, it happened.  
But somewhere inside him, Stiles knows: he feels it in the stomach. He wants to do it again. He just knows that "don't get drunk again" it's not the solution.  
So he panics.  
He got it: he's not a positive guy even when he's sober and that drives him crazy. Because he realises that, at 1am when the light of his iPod's screen is showing him new cuts on the wrist, just made with the a pair of sharp little scissor, his heart is a bit lighter. Lighter than it's been for weeks.  
Stiles, in a few words, needs pain.  
And it's not okay, but that's just how it is. And that scares him a lot. 

 

 

***

 

 

Two days passes after that sunday afternoon: Stiles hasn't done it yet. He doesn't think about it, and when he catches himself touching the cuts over his jumper, he stops immediatly. There's a lot of guilt, and it hits him so hard he can't breathe sometimes.  
His tactic is, let's say, not the best one: no throwing sharp object away, no telling anyone; he just tried not to stay alone too much with the werewolfs. Which worked until now, without counting the enormous amount of questions Scott asked him everytime he declined his invite.  
Stiles made sure that Lydia or Allison or Danny were always with him when one of the werewolf was close, so that nobody could scent his self injuries. He even started to avoid Scott and Isaac in the hallways, which made him feel like shit; even worse were Scott's messages asking him if he'd done something wrong. No, Scott. I'm the awful friend here.  
The night was more complicated - for other reasons. To avoid confronting the feeling of doing it again, Stiles started watching television until like, 3am, so that he would be so tired that, once in bed, he couldn't really think about anything else but sleep and get some rest. It worked until that wendsday night, around 00:25am, when his black iPhone, ruined on the sides, vibrated.  
00:25 am: scottie  
they are back  
marked ethan 2

And Stiles couldn't give less of a shit about Ethan: exactly how much that asshole gave a shit about Boyd. But he immediatly understands that that text only meant more and more reunions with the pack at Scott's house. And he can't be surrounded by werefolf. He just can't. 

 

 

"Stiles?"  
The boy realizes immediatly that he's not in his bedroom. "Oh" he whispers. When he opens his eyes he sees his dad, with a black coffe mug in the hand, looking at him deeply worried.  
The first thing Stiles does - which makes him lose five beats - is to check if his blue pijama is covering his wrist and thank God it is. He mentally checks to insult himself at least ten times later for falling asleep on the couch.  
His father just keeps looking at him. "You have horrible black circles under your eyes." he says. "I hope you weren't up all night watching American Horror Story again, because-"  
"Dad!" Stiles screams, scratching his eyes "It happened once"  
His dad sits beside him. "How are you, Stiles? he asks.  
And it's so damn worried for him, that Stiles can't help but feel like a complete disaster - and he probably is. "I'm fine, pa. Don't worry" Then they hug, and Stiles is trying really hard not to cry. But his eyes starts to tingled when his dad whispers an "I love you" in his ear.

When he's on his way to school (he decided not to use his Jeep today: maybe the wind could take away some of his scent, right?) Scott calls.  
Stiles inhales deeply, before answering. "'Morning, beautiful"  
"I'm sorry"  
Stiles stops. "What?"  
Scott, from the other part of the line, sighs. "Allison called me urgently to her house, and his dad told us everything he knows about those things-people. It's a lot" Stiles hears some voices in the background. "I'm sorry, we had to leave to find these dude who are supposed to help us, and we left immediatly. I didn't even have the time to call you-- I'm so sorry"  
"Dude, stop with the sorrys." Stiles kicked a pebble on the ground. "It's fine. Where are you now?"  
"Chris says that those things are looking for us only, so you are going to be fine. I don't know, probably out of the State..."  
"Who's with you?" Stiles asks, and immediatly feels Scott doing a werid noise.  
He esitates. "Isaac" he says. Then: "And the twins"  
Stiles almost screams. "The twins?!"  
"It wasn't a my idea!" Scott takes a break. "God, I'm so sorry I left you there."  
"I'm late for school"  
"Stiles, please-"  
And honestly? Stiles doens't feel guilty when he hungs up. Why the twins were still alive was something Stiles couldn't understand: if he were an alfa, as soon as the Deucalion and Darach shit was over, he would have killed them both.  
But Scott wasn't like that: he always gave second chances to everyone, except himself. Stiles loved him so much it hurt him, but fuck. He had every right to be angry.  
Now they both needed to be seperated for a while, and that was fine; Stiles was going to reflect on the last few days and tried to think as little as he could about his best friend looking for misterious creatures with no idea how to destroy them. 

 

 

***

 

 

The worst thing is that Stiles can't even say that cliché phrase "I don't know how it started", because he has the exact day when it all went down. Then it just got worse.  
Sometimes when he's in class he thinks about his mother, or that Scott will find everything out eventually. Or that one day he'll be alone because everybody will leave him. And those thoughts were insistent, heavy and made his days more complicated: he doesn't know what the fuck is going on anymore, but he started to go in the school bathroom "doing things".  
It's weird because Stiles doesn't have the control of it: sometimes it's just scratches on the side or on his torso, maybe with his house keys; but sometimes it's deep cuts with the knifes in the bio lab. And those hurt, and make a lot of blood and take time for the cleaning process.  
Meanwhile, the things-people marked Scott and the other twin, and the group was still on the amazing school trip he was not invited to: Stiles received millions of messages from Scott everyday, and he was cautious to answer all of them to keep his friend out of paranoia. He wasn't mad at him anymore: he was the best best friend he could have in the entire Planet, and the fact that he had to be alone for a while was only a positive thing for him.  
The moments of panic and anger that he released in the school bathroom rarely happened at home, and anyway never in the daylight. So the real enemy Stiles is facing that week, is really just boredom. 

When his dad leave the house that afternoon, Stiles is bored to death. He decides that yes, it's time to go for a walk; he reaches to take his phone before going out and then rethinks it. He wanted to be completely alone today.  
There's a park in Beacon Hills that nobody gives a shit about. It's almost on the limit with the woods, and has two blighted swings and a small bench: Stiles used to go there as a kid (he really liked swings), but then towards middle school his dad stopped taking him because he arrested two guys for drugs. At the end there's places people forget about.  
Stiles finds himself crying a few minutes later, with his hand on the cold iron of the bench, with his breathe cut short. "Remember that panic attacks always end" his doctor told him once. So he hungs on that thought: he tries to focus on his breathing, counting seconds like he was taught when he was little. In his heart he knew this was going to happen: he didn't have a panic attack in years, but all that cutting thing brought out the worst parts of him. He starts to sweat. His head hurts and he wishes someone just could take him home. Or to his mother.  
He doesn't even realise he's on the ground until his fingernails hurt because he's grabbing hard the gravel. He repeats to himself: some people are meant to be forgotten.  
When everything goes away, he feels empty: he thinks - he's sure - he's been there for twenty minutes, but it was barely five. His forehead is sweaty and his muscles are weak, so he decides to remain on the groung for a while to recuperate.  
He doesn't even know what time is it, but it's definetively early for his father to come home. Thinking about it, he rarely had to live a panic attack on his own like that.  
"Was that a panic attack?"  
Stiles Stilinski, with his ass on the cold ground, was near to screaming. He gets up so rapidly that he almost feels the trembling begin again but then he sees Derek and - weirdly - his breathing calms down because, at the end of the day, Derek smells like home. He takes a deep breathe to prepare himself from saying how much of a dickhead he is to pop up like that, but he ends up mumbling something unspecific.  
"What's wrong?" he asks again.  
"Nothing" Stiles is still thinking about the panic attack he just had, trying to classificate it: it was probably in the top 5 of the most painful and long he ever had in his life. "Well, I'm going home" he says. "See you around, I guess"  
Stiles feels weak and vulnerable because, fuck, Derek Hale just saw him having a panic attack. He feels like shit from emberassment and tries not to look him in the eyes: he turns around and leaves. He even forgets that 'Derek's back!': he just wants lo leave that place as quicly as he can and forget about Dereke being there.  
It wasn't the first time he had panic attack in front of other people, but it had always been doctors, Scott, his parents and more doctors. And he always felt ashamed but then he remembered hey, doctors see worse shit every day, Scott is Scott and your parents saw you on sunday mornings. So the shame usually passed.  
But Derek Hale, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. At least top 3.

 

 

Stiles comes home to find his fridge completely empty and between the feeling of emptiness and the shame he just went through, he decides it's time to go to bed. Even if it's 6pm.  
He's still in the kitchen when something inside of him suggest the other option. And Stiles is scared, so he does the only thing that makes him temporarily feeling better but bleeding like crazy: he drinks again. 

When he finds Derek Hale in his bedroom, one hour later, he's pretty sure he's imagining it. "You are not Derek, right?" he says. And he starts to say something else but falls and bumps into him. Nope: Derek Hale, bone and flesh, in his bedroom. Even with the leather jacket on.  
He has a confused face, but kind of intimidating: he basically has the face he uses in every occasion, except when he's flirting. Which even offends him a little.  
"Stiles" he calls him. And in reality Derek is there for three things: to ask where Scott and everyone else went, to see if he was okay and for the smell of blood he got from him later on that afternoon when they met. He thought a lot about what to tell Stiles after that episode; but then he just went in his bedroom without preparing what to say. And he found him drinking like a middle school kid, with underwear and a shirt on. He just says his name. He takes him firmly for the shoulders and make him sit on his bed, quietly. Stiles soon lies down in a fetal position and looks at him directly in the eyes.  
Stiles' dragon t-shirt leaves uncovered several inaccurate orizontal and vertical cuts all over his arms, and Derek could tell from the healing process they were from different days on these two weeks. Some of them were going to leave thick scars. He wonders if Stiles realised that.  
Stiles' eyes are about to close and Derek knows that a) he's not going to get his answers anytime soon and b) he couldn't leave him like that. 

 

 

Waking up like an animal  
I'm all ready for healing

 

 

"You are stayng there?" Stiles asks, with his eyes close and the head that keeps spinning.  
Derek makes a consesual noise and takes a couple of books from Stiles' collection. "Now, shut up and sleep."  
And Stiles just smiles and tries to fall asleep.

 

 

***

 

 

Four days go by after that evening and Stiles is not returning to school yet. He asked his father if he could take a "break" from it and the Sheriff, realising how much he needed it, agreed without further questions and kissed his forehead.  
He reassured Scott he was okay, but - of course - he didn't believe him and forbade to everyone to go visit him until he felt better. Meanwhile they were back from the trip but refused to say anything they found out to Stiles to not stress him out even more. So, Stiles Stilinski was officially on holiday.  
Derek and him talked about Scott, about the panic attack and yes, even about the cuts. It was a real relief: he told him how he felt, how it started and discovered that Derek was actually a great listener. 

 

"YOU WERE IN COLLEGE WORKING PART TIME WAITING TABLES"  
"Stiles-"  
"LEFT A SMALL TOWN, NEVER LOOKED BACK, I WAS A FLIGHT RISK WITH A FEAR OF FALLING"  
"N--"  
"WONDERING WHY WE BOTHER WITH LOVE IF IT NEVER LASTS"  
"..."  
"..."  
"Are you done?"  
Stiles opens his eyes. "I don't even like Taylor Swift"  
Derek closes the book he was trying to read that day, and throws it on Stiles' bed, almost hitting his leg mumbling a kind of friendly "idiot" under his breathe.  
Stiles is still lied down and feels incredibly hyped. "I woke up a while ago, I was thinking about life and that song came up. Did I scare you?" He takes the book Derek throwed at him and absently reads some pages. "Waking up and finding you there it's still strange" he says. "You are a bit creepy, but it's a nice feeling"  
Derek gets up from the chair and takes his jacket. "Your dad is coming. Better if I leave, uh?" He made Stiles company since that famous evening. He left only when he heard his father coming; even when Stiles was sleeping, he would just stay there and read, not to leave him alone. So that everytime he would wake up, he was there to listen.  
Stiles didn't even try to hide his displeasure. "Alright... Hey listen" he says "can you bring me some food?"  
Derek and Stiles have eye contact for almost a minute. The werewolf takes a while to understan that he's not joking. "No" he simply answers.  
"Aren't you coming back?" Stiles asks again.  
"You don't need me if your father is home. And then" he adds, "you have your homework to do"  
Stiles bites his lip, hard. "But I'd like you to stay...?"  
Derek was definitely too tired and knew he couldn't take Stiles talking for too long. Not that he didn't like staying with him: he just needed to take it slow. Stiles was a lot to take in one sitting. "See you tomorrow, Stiles"

When Stiles hears his father's car in the yard, he knows Derek is already gone. He feels really vulnerable at that thought: staying with Derek makes him feel good.  
As predicted from Derek, the Sheriff walks insied his bedroom to check on him, but Stiles' mind is somewhere else.

 

 

***

 

 

It's friday when it happens, and it happens by accident.  
They are sitting on the floor of Stiles bedroom, with a chemistry book on Stiles' legs and a history book on Derek's. One of them is not reading, though. It's not hard to guess who it is.  
"Chemistry is not even useful in life" Stiles explain - but the other one is not listening to him. "I mean: if I wanted to cook meth it would be useful but--"  
Derek closes the book, looking at him kind of annoyied. "Write that on your test on monday"  
"No but like" Stiles keeps going, "it's useful. Just not in my life"  
"And how do you know you are not going to be a drug addict when you grow up?"  
And Stiles is about to explain that tecnically cooking meth doensn't make you a drug addict, but leaves it. "I don't want to take the test"  
Derek comes towards him sayng a distracted "uhu", and steals his yellow highlighter. Their relationship was so strange now, that sometimes being so comfortable around Stiles made Derek feel guilty, for some reason. Stiles looks at him and decides that yes, he was going to do something silly today, because he has to celebrate he's a positive guy again, right? He takes two seconds to formulate the thought; then he takes action in three - grab his face with both hands - and keeps him lips on his for five. Ten seconds of total delirium before they break apart.  
Derek sits quiet. Stiles is smiling like a happy toddler and says he's euforic because he's now positive again, but the other one doesn't respond.  
"Can you, uh, start studying and keep your hands to yourself?" he says after a while.  
Stiles is shocked. "I mean, we just kissed and you still have that pout with me"  
"I have 'that pout' with you because you are a child"  
"But we just kissed" he repeats, like he can't believe it either. "Shouldn't you like, buy me food and grind on me and stuff?"  
Derek ignores him and opens up his history book again, starting to underline random phrases he doesn't even read properly. He could swear he saw Stiles licking his lips and now he somehow can't speak because a big nod is in his throat.

As soon as Derek leaves, that afternoon, a few minutes before the Sheriff comes home, Stiles sends a message to scottie: hey bro, guess who's feeling better? xx  
He cannot believe a week before he was crying in a park, having a panic attack thinking about being alone and forgotten. 'Some people are meant to be forgotten' my ass. He wasn't alone. He was never going to be alone.

07:54pm scottie:  
hey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have so many newz im happy you are back  
07:55pm scottie:  
but first you need to tell how ya been baby

Stiles holds in a laugh. He has so many things to tell him.

 

 

***

 

 

Stiles thinks about Derek when he's trying to do his chemistry test, and not about sometimes love is not enough / and the road gets tough / I don't know why. And doesn't even feel the need to go to the bathroom to scratch himself with his car keys. He just smiles.  
Which is great, because he feels a positive guy again.


End file.
